


Little One

by Taylande



Series: A Collection of Tales [2]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst, Death, Excuse me while I go cry, F/M, Family, I'M NOT CRYING YOU ARE, Lith and Tary deserved better, OW, Other, This whole damn family did, i hurt myself, major death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-12-31 22:08:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18322916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taylande/pseuds/Taylande
Summary: Taryanda's eldest came into the world strong. But sometimes, she wishes for a moment she could change the course of history and go back to that one moment in time, back when her troubles were smaller.





	Little One

They had waited for so long for the arrival of this child. Through trial and error and an entire damned Empire gossipping about this or that, they would have a child. Together. Everyone spoke in whispers of a child with roots of Silverblade and Moonblade blood. Powerful and able to shape the world, supposedly. Viewed either as a curse or a blessing.

Whatever the case, Taryanda did not care. She wanted so desperately to be a mother, to see her child grow and live. She would make sure her child had everything they needed. Lithmyr stood right by her side as she muffled her cries of pain. His hand in hers, she could take on the world. The priestess worked on and it felt like it would be hours before her child came into the world. 

Taryanda stole a glance at Lithmyr and knew he watched the priestesses. He took this time to imagine their child and the life they would have _together_. The hope in his eyes, so much of it, and Tary swore she fell in love with him again. An unsure, timid smile spread across his face. He prayed quietly they'd have a daughter. He confided in her how much he wanted to have a daughter first. And then a son later down the road.

His silvery eyes began to shine with tears as he watched what he'd only ever think of as a miracle. Lithmyr's only wish was that his little brother be here to watch this. Fanarol loved children, and he'd especially love being an uncle. Lith would make sure their child would have the most loving home. Kyena and Fanarol would visit their niece or nephew and teach them so many things, and share as many stories as they could.

Before either of them knew it, their child was there. With them. Alive, healthy, breathing. And loud. So very loud, but strong. “It's a girl,” the priestess exclaimed joyously.

And Tary looked up to see Lithmyr with tears in his eyes. The priestess present, a trusted friend of the both of them, smiled softly and passed their newborn daughter to him. His hand slipped out of Tary's as he stared, wide-eyed and awed, at the babe. His gaze passed to Tary. She could see all the love in the world in his eyes.

“Tary… we're _parents_ ,” he gasped. Lith passed their daughter, still wailing, to her. He began to smile the widest, most unburdened smile she had ever seen on him. Her mate looked like he'd just been given his heart's desire. And he had. “We've got a daughter together!”

“We do, and she's been blessed with your eyes as well,” Tary answered. Sweat still beaded her forehead. She felt… hot. Much too hot for comfort, all because of the physical strain on her body. It took so long for her to finally birth their daughter. “What will we name her?”

Lith's smile came off his face. “Ranyri? After your mother? Or Lanaya, for your sister?” He began pondering more names silently. Tary looked down on their firstborn, trying to think of names for her. “Fyannis? After Fyryanna?”

“We don’t have to name her after anyone specifically, surfal. We don't have to name her after anyone. She can make her name her own. After all, didn't you hear her crying?” Their daughter had since quieted down, instead whimpering here or there. 

Lith leaned over her bed to be closer to his new family. Tary silently debated on what they would name their daughter. “Nymera, perhaps? It’s an older name. It means--”

“Fighter, I know. You talked for hours about the ancient texts you found and this word meaning that,” he chuckled. “Will we be continuing the trend of Moonblades having secret second names?” 

Tary squinted her eyes at him, wondering at what name passed through his mind right now. She supposed asking couldn’t hurt. After all, he always made her curious about what he thought about. She raised a brow at him. “Well, why not give her her second name for my brother?” Lith shrugged as he proposed the idea.

She motioned for him to to continue on. He sometimes had a habit of forgetting she couldn’t exactly read his mind. “Fanyri?” he hesitantly suggested.

Tary nodded, a smile spreading across her face. “Yes. It’s a beautiful name. Nymera Fanyri Stormbow.” Tary found herself repeating the name every so often, staring down at her daughter as she groaned and tried to make herself comfortable in her mother’s arms. She didn’t have to look at Lith to know he watched their daughter in amazement. 

He would give the world for his little girl. He’d do anything for his new family. 

Tary would give her up her claim on Jai’alator, on succeeding her parents as the matriarch of the Stormbow house, if it meant she could live a quiet life with her family. She would make sure her Lithmyr and her little Nymia had the world. Both of them. Together. Living their life. The idea of it made her heart ache with the want for that life. To have that, right now… she just might do it, might consider telling her parents to name Kyena their heir. Even if her little sister was busy learning the art of a priestess of Elune.

As the night gave way to day, Lith began to pen letters. He penned one for his younger sister Kyena and for his baby brother Fanarol. They would be the first to hear of their new niece. Selindil could wait. She might want to “mentor” their daughter in the ways of a Highborne woman. Tary, nor Lith, would ever allow that. 

“Tary, I’ve written them letters. But I think we can wait a while before we deliver them. I think they’ll be a bit… overenthusiastic. And the time doesn’t seem right,” Lith stated at one point. 

His mate agreed, nodding once as she rocked their newborn. “Yes. I’m curious about what their reactions will be. Can you read me one, Lith?” 

Lith nodded once and picked up a letter. He cleared his throat, reading:

_”Kyena,_

_Ishnu’alah, k’laen fa’lore. It’s been some time since we last saw or actually spoke to each other. I believe the last time was when you were around 700? But anyway, I’m writing because I wanted to inform you about your status as an aunt. Your sister gave birth to your niece on the first day of Spring to our daughter. We finally decided on a name after tossing a few around. Her name is Nymera Fanyri Stormbow._

_She’ll have the Stormbow name since we want her to have a part of both her families. Nymera for the Moonblades, since your line is full of fighters. Fanyri for her Silverblade heritage, and named after my baby brother. The Stormbow part is obvious. When she comes of age she can call herself whatever she wants, be it Moonblade, Stormbow, or Silverblade._

_Tary and I hope your time at the Temple goes well. I promise you we’ll visit as soon as possible, even if you don’t really remember us. Ande’thoras’ethil and Elune’adore, k’laen fa’lore._

_Signed, Lithmyr Silverblade”_

Taryanda smiled and rocked her little Nymia to sleep, whispering her name over and over. She wouldn’t forget that light in Lithmyr’s eyes as he looked at his new family. His expression told her more than enough of how happy, how absolutely ecstatic he was at this new chapter in his life.

She wanted a forever with her Lithmyr.

~~~~~

That was years ago, though, Tary recalled as her little Nymia, still grown, yelled at her.

“First you come into my fucking life and try to fucking tell me what to do! You left me--no, you _abandoned_ me--to that _fucking bitch_ Selindil! Did you leave me like you left Elariel? Just… just in a basket and swaddling blanket with a note? Did you even fucking care to show up and help me, knowing and seeing what she did to me as a child? I was raised my whole life believing I was a bastard and now you want to tell me I’m not?!” 

Tears rolled down her cheeks as her daughter, her last link to her Lithmyr, let out all the anger pent up in her over the years. Taryanda knew she’d never be the mother her daughter wanted. Not after that damned break in timelines that caused her to be trapped in an alternate world. One where she never existed. One where Lithmyr was still a smiling, joyful youth ready to take on the world. 

Not once did she ever consider her little Nymia might hate her for the choices she made. Taryanda understood why her both her Silverblade boys couldn’t care for Nymia. It would have shamed House Silverblade, caused the downfall. But, though her dragon told her things had to happen this way, otherwise the timelines would never be right, Tary could not find it in herself to forgive herself for her parenting.

After all, Nymia was right. She abandoned her daughter and left her in the dark for so many years about her heritage. She’d had all trace of Stormbow and Moonblade wiped from her. Nymia grew up on tales about Whiyarmir, Fyryanna, and maybe the occasional tale of Tor’landa and her dragon. Never once about Jaisia Stormbow. 

Nymia grew up only knowing she was a bastard of Silverblade. She knew only of her aunt’s and uncle’s heritage, of Silverblade and Issra’kalah. After seeing Nymia’s drawings once or twice, Taryanda understood why their house was named the Painters of the Stars. Their artwork rivaled that of Elune’s own. 

“I don’t ever fucking want to see you again! Stay out of my life, out of my family, don’t you ever fucking try to reach out! Don’t pretend you cared and don’t ever try to say you’re my mother. Don’t even _dare_ calling me Nymia! You lost that right a long time ago, Taryanda.”

Taryanda remembered the day her little Nymia was born. How her Lithmyr doted on the babe and how all the stars were in his eyes as he looked on their daughter. Taryanda would have given everything if she could have just one more day with her daughter. Taryanda’s heart broke.

~~~~~

Kazoch. That damned demon. Some kind soul had done all they could to heal Lith’s face. Damn, did Taylande have that fire in her. She was just like her namesake. She had Taryanda’s fire. Her eyes reminded him of that warm honey, and of the softness in her gaze. He never wanted to hurt his baby brother’s daughter. He tried so hard to fight that demon’s control and he failed. 

Those harsh, unflinching amber eyes gazed into his soul. She’d had too much fun in defiling his face with Silverblade. Harsh and unflinching and full of fire, just like Taryanda’s when she spent her time in the training yard. Taylande Aharia Moonblade, his baby brother’s daughter, so much like her aunt. 

After feeling the eagerness practically radiating off of Taylande as she carved his face into pieces, Lithmyr knew without a doubt Kazoch had made his perfect little pawn. But he prayed to Elune nonstop when he could that Taylande would fight him with everything she had. He prayed his own daughter would find her, take her in. Care for her. 

Lith stifled a sob as he remembered his daughter. Remembered what Kazoch had made him do to her. He came to save her and her little brother that night. He’d still not been strong enough to fight the demon’s control. He remembered how much she looked like Tary when Tary was her age. 

Taryanda told him when their daughter was born that she had his eyes. Beautiful, dusky silver, just like the moon on a cloudy night, Tary had described them. That was the night they’d shared their first kiss. His heart had been so light then, burdened only by protecting his siblings and living up to Father’s expectations. 

Lithmyr still carried the letters he pinned to Kyena and Fanarol. He kept them in a pocket just inside his vest. If he ever could, he planned to deliver them to his brother and sister. They deserved to learn about the birth of their niece. In Kazoch’s fucked-up mansion, Lithmyr had told Landrelia all he could about his daughter Nymera, how proud he was of her no matter what she did. How his heart swelled when he saw just how much she loved her Wolf. 

His daughter loved as he did. Fiercely, and with a burning desire to protect her family. That was how Tary described him the night they stopped their courting and became mates. 

How he missed his Tary. 

In the sweltering desert heat, Kyena stood over him with a look of pity in her eyes. Not that he could see it, so much as feel it. That firey little niece of his, little Taylande, took his eyesight. He didn’t blame her. He blamed Kazoch for destroying everything. 

Lithmyr asked Tary once if he could name their second child after Kyena and his own mother. She agreed. He wondered, if Kazoch hadn’t ruined everything for them, if that child would have had a good life. He would never know now.

“It wasn’t me… I’m sorry… Please, Kye, k’laen fa’lore, please…” he sobbed into the sand. If he still had eyes, Lithmyr knew he would be bawling. His chest shuddered as waves and waves of pain rained down upon him, suppressed for too long under Kazoch’s control. “Please…. I’m sorry….”

Lith could have sworn he heard Kyena take in a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m sorry, too, my brother.” Kyena’s voice cracked. She knew he was a good man. She understood slightly better why her sister loved Lithmyr Silverblade. “I wish you never had to go through what he put you through.”

“I miss Taryanda. I miss my little girl. I… I want our… family….” he rasped out. Lith was suddenly racked by a series of violent coughs, leaving him nearly voiceless after they finished. “I want… my… my Tary….”

Kyena unsheathed her sword, the hissing of steel against leather loud and ringing in Lithmyr’s ears. “I will send you to her, I promise.”

“I’ve got a letter…. Tary… for your little… little sister…. And Fanar… too…. It’s in my… my… pocket…. I- I- I- for little Nymia’s birth….” Lith began to ramble and he felt it begin to rain. Or so he thought. If it was rain, it was sparse, but he welcomed it nonetheless. A trickle here, and a trickle there, but still. Rain. He wondered if Elune played tricks on him, or if it was just an odd weather occurence in this desert. He hope Kyena dressed to stay dry. 

The rain fell only a little more frequently. Lithmyr prayed quietly that he would drink his fill soon. It had been too long without water.

A sharp pain went through his abdomen. It disappeared soon after, and a sudden clarity came to him. “I… Kyena… I’m going to… see Tary again,” he rasped. Lithmyr smiled that same unburdened smile he had when his little Nymia was born. 

How he missed his Tary.

“I know, Lithmyr. Tell her I love her, and you don’t let her forget how much you missed her,” Kyena answered. The rain came harder, and Lithmyr worried if Kyena was cloaked or not. Strange, though, that the rain fell only on his face and nowhere else. He could have sworn he heard Kyena hold back a whimper. But why? She shouldn’t be sad, not his k’laen fa’lore.

“Tary… I… I missed… you….”


End file.
